Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1887-10-04
CHAPTER XVII.

1
CHAPTER XVII.
Suzanne sprang forward, her cheeks in
glow, her eyes ablaze and her beauty so dai
cling that the poor young man stood as
rooted to the spot, incapable Of speech o
movement.
81 see you'll you cannot hide from mel"
And then suddenly, from some indefnabl
presentiment of trouble, her cheeks grew
pale, her smile faded and her lovely viole
eyes saddened. He had to show himself, +
try to smile, but she remained serious
raymond said she, something has hap
pened. What is itr
81 assure you, you are mistaken" said he
taking her hands and pressing them to hi
lips.
raymond" she continued gravely, :"
have something to tell you, which will,
hope, be the means of consolidating our hap
piness."
Their happinessl Raymond sighed.
"You see,n she continued, ''my father ha!
also been searching for the real criminal, ant
he thinks, with much reason, that he has dis
covered the wretch. II that proves true
Raymond, we are free to avow our love
Come with me to see father before you e
home. He will be so glad to see you. Come
let us hurry. Then afterward We will go and
tell the good news to your mother, who will
be so happy, too, Raymond-your mother,
whom love so well already
His motherl He withdrew his arm from
the light constraint of her hand, and then
Suzanne saw whit she had not noticed before,
that he was deathly pale and wan, and that
be could not look her in the eyes.
"In heavens name what has happened To
render you like thisr' said she, breathless with
fear.
"Nothing.n
"Hush, do not say that It is not true. ]
am afraid some new misery awaits u.s.
pray you tell men
~ cannot go to your house now, Suzanne.
must go home first"
~ will 60 with you and We can talk on the
way, and can tell you all that has happened
and all that we hope"
mo, Suzanne, l shall be with my mother
all day, and at night must go back to Paris.
Believe Inc, my dear Suzanne, dearer than
life, that am not deceiving you"
"Tell me the truth and will, even If it
costs my life"
"Suzanne, pray you do not question me
I can only say our happiness is destroyed
Our marriage can never take place. 1t would
be the greatest misery that ever fell upon two
people"
"A great misery 1t is but little while
that you pretended to think it great happi-
ness have been told that men are tickle.
know it now
"But OH best beloved of women, l am not
changed. shall never change, but new
sorrow has overshadowed US, and it is one
which can never lift. 1 pray you do not ask
me to say more; my heart is broken.n
81 believe you. So, then, it is a secret be
tween us which you will not tell me, or can
notF
He lowered his head.
"And this secret" she continued, sis not
yours, as mine was not mine There must be,
then, something Of that sort that forces you
to keep up before Inc n like silence, and that
stains the honor of some one Of your family
/ see you cann~s answer, and that from pale
you now blush red. Have divinedp
He Joined his hands in agony and held
them out to her in mute supplication.
"Very well, Raymond. Now 1t is my Tins
to say, whatever the shame, whatever thu
l love you, and shall still be proud
to hear your name. You did not cast me of
when you learned the full measure Of my
woes. Tell me, then, Raymond, tell me
your secret You are too noble and too
proud, SO that this dshonor cannot be your
own, but must hear, Raymond, just as you
heard me, so that l may consent or refuse.
Do you think l would refuseTn
"Do not ask. Do not wish to know, and If
you did l should be the most unhappy Of
men 1t is, alas useless"
Raymond are you tired Of me, and is this
a subterfugei Please say so, if it is, though !
am willing, God knows, to suffer anything
for you and with you do not wish you to
feel that l am of tho kind that urges their
love upon another"
"This is more than cruell My life, my
love and my souls idolatry are given to you,
and you only do or shall ever love.n
"Then since you love me, do not plunge my
whole life in one perpetual mourning. Leave
me a little hope IL you do not wish me to
die"
"Adieu, Suzanne, my precious love-"
Raymond, pray you reconsider. Keep
your secret locked In your heart; will
never ask It, never, BweRr. will never
think OF it Our happiness will be possible
again. Oh, Raymond, do not refuse. II
you knew how many tears have wept in
my lonely life since my childhood, and how
much want to know what peace and happi-
ness are" ...
The poor child had Raymond's hand and
she lifted 1t to her lips and kissed the fingers
one by one. Her sweet words came to his
ears like distant music, and his whole being
thrilled at that tender cares; but the sweet
or IL was the more was it his duty to leave
nor and fly. And his happiness and hers
could be secured so very easily. He had but
20 keep his awful secret and open his arms
20 become the husband Of the woman he
owed. He had but to say one word, and he
made no sound or gesture, for at that mo-
nent he seemed 10 see In one fash Of light
hat whole terrible drama And his soul re-
7olted at the thought of his wife, il he con-
iented, being the daughter of his mothers
victim He questioned his conscience no
more, for he knew he could not permit such
an abomination.
Raymond drew back and with groan of
agony, the like Of which she never heard, he
started and ran away from her and tempta.
ton as though pursued by demons; and she,
poor girl, held out her hands after his re-
treating figure, but he was gone. And when
she could SEQ him no more she fell swooning
upon tho moss as II he had taken her life
with him. She lay thus like one dead
'or an hour, and when she regained her
Iepses she crept feebly home and to her bed,
where morning found her sick and suffering.
When Laroque returned at night he found
her very III, with every symptom of brain
fever. The physician ordered quiet, and said
that he feared she had suffered some mental
shock.
That night in her delirium the unfortunate
Tather heard in disjointed sentences enough
70 inform him that Raymond had abandoned
her, and ho determined to have an explana-
ion with him, and to that end drove over IN
Meridou farm, and asked to SEQ Raymond
Hone.
"You wish to speak to me, sirFn said Ray
nond
Eyes, M. De Noirvillo My daughter Is
Ill, and in her delirium she let es-
ape her enough TO convince me that though
We thought your marriage would soon take
,lace, you suddenly withdraw your promise.
Vas that done ON account Of my having been
.djudged guilty Of murderIn
ono, and know that in spite OF that you
we're tho most honest and loyal man In the
y rld, and know that you have been very
.nhappy."
"My daughter loves you and will die IL you
esert her. In remembrance q the friendshiD